


the anchor that ties you to fate

by sameolsituation



Series: DL Stockings 2019 [15]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Big Gay Love Story, DL Stockings 2019, First Meetings, Fluff, Freddie is Freddie, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, john is done with these idiots, poly!Queen, roger is skeptical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21976081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sameolsituation/pseuds/sameolsituation
Summary: Growing up, he was always a little skeptical of the concept of soulmates; not that he didn’t believe they were real, but that he always thought there was the possibility he could end up just as happy with someone who wasn’t his soulmate.--Roger Taylor is born with three soulmarks, but he's convinced he won't meet any of his supposed soulmates.
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May/Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Series: DL Stockings 2019 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581805
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70
Collections: DL Stockings 2019





	the anchor that ties you to fate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleepydeaky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepydeaky/gifts).



> This was created as part of the Dork Lovers Server Stocking Challenge... you get a fic, you get a fic, everyone gets a fic! 
> 
> I promise this is different from the other soulmate AU included in the series -- I just love them so much I had to write two. 
> 
> Title is from Kitten's song I'll Be Your Girl.

Every child was born with the first words their soulmate would ever say to them printed on their skin. Some people had only one phrase or word etched on their bodies, while others had multiple sentences indicating multiple soulmates.

The one caveat of these ‘soulmarks,’ as they had come to be called, was that the only way to determine if that person was truly their soulmate was to have them kiss the mark; if it disappeared under the touch of their lips, then their soulmate had been found.

Roger Taylor was born with three soulmarks on his skin; ‘ _you’re a cute one,’_ down his forearm, _‘are you our Ginger Baker?’_ wrapped around his abdomen, and a simple _‘Hi’_ on his inner thigh.

Growing up, he was always a little skeptical of the concept of soulmates; not that he didn’t believe they were real, but that he always thought there was the possibility he could end up just as happy with someone who wasn’t his soulmate.

All of that changed when he met Brian May.

* * *

He first saw the notice on a bulletin board in between two classrooms at Imperial College: a band holding auditions to find a “Ginger Baker type” drummer. Roger felt a sort of twinge in his chest as he scanned over the notice, a feeling urging him to sign up for an audition, as though he’d find an answer to the question that he’d grown up with.

Feeling like there was no going back, he dug out a pen from his bag and scrawled out his name next to one of the audition time slots listed, curious to see what the audition would have in store for him.

* * *

Lugging his drum kit into the mostly-empty conference room that was serving as the audition room that Friday afternoon, Roger found two boys seated at a table, seemingly waiting for him. They looked rather similar; both had short, straight hair cut in similar styles, although one boy’s hair looked as though it was trying to rebel against him as it curled slightly at the ends. Roger couldn’t recall ever seeing the two of them before, which meant they were probably majoring in something far different from his own major.

“Hi,” he greeted, unceremoniously setting the unassembled parts of his drum kit down in the middle of the floor.

“What’s your name?” one of the boys asked.

“I’m Roger. Roger Taylor,” he said, adding a dramatic bow as a flourish to his introduction. The boy with the rebellious hair offered him just the barest hint of a smile, and for some reason, Roger’s heart fluttered.

“Are you our Ginger Baker?” that boy asked, and again Roger felt that strange flutter, almost an ache as he was reminded of those words printed on his stomach. He didn’t have concrete proof yet, but he was almost certain that boy sitting at that table was one of his soulmates.

“Suppose so,” Roger answered.

“I’m Tim,” the other boy introduced himself, “and that’s Brian. Show us what you’ve got, Roger.”

Roger set up his drum kit fairly quickly; he’d been playing so long he was more than familiar with all the parts and how they interconnected. It was when he began to tune his drums before he started to play that he was interrupted.

“Uh, can I ask what it is that you’re doing?” Brian asked, sounding more intrigued than anything else.

“I’m tuning my drums so they don’t sound like crap,” Roger explained.

“You can do that?” Brian asked, sounding oddly awed.

“…Yeah? I kind of have to.”

“That’s quite impressive, actually.”

* * *

Three days later, Roger received word that he’d been chosen as the drummer for Tim and Brian’s fledgling band, Smile.

As they began to spend more time together in band rehearsals, Roger found that he got on better with Tim than he did with Brian, tending to argue about anything and everything with the latter; still, when they weren’t arguing they worked together brilliantly, and Roger was always drawn towards him, although he had yet to confess his suspicion that Brian was one of his soulmates. He didn’t know how well Brian would take it, even though there was no denying that sometimes Brian also looked at him like there was a confession of his own hiding behind his lips.

Roger had been in the band for three months when he finally decided it was time to confess, getting them alone by forcing Brian to linger after the end of rehearsal, telling Tim to go on as he had something important he needed to discuss with Brian.

Brian, predictably, wasn’t too happy about being forced to stay; he’d already complained loudly that he felt rehearsal had run far too long that day, and he had a bunch of papers and reports he needed to finish, so couldn’t whatever Roger had to say wait until tomorrow?

That was until Roger, losing his temper, not-too-gently pushed Brian up against the wall and yelled at him that he’d waited three bloody months to tell him and that he better shut up and listen to what he had to say.

Thankfully, Brian _did_ shut up after that, and Roger wordlessly tugged his shirt up to his midriff and pointed to the sentence on his stomach. Brian’s mouth dropped open in silent awe, and he reached out with shaking fingertips to trace over every letter, as though he understood the point Roger was making.

“I need to know,” Roger whispered, his temper quelled by the way Brian was touching his skin with such reverence. “Please, Bri.”

Brian sighed and nodded, and without another word he dropped to his knees, placing both hands on Roger’s hips to steady himself. Just having Brian kneeling at his feet felt oddly sensual, with Roger having to clasp his hands tightly behind his back to avoid running his fingers through Brian’s hair.

Brian leaned in and pressed his lips to Roger’s stomach, and Roger gasped as he felt a momentarily blinding pain that faded as soon as it had begun. Looking down, Roger found that Brian had pulled back and was staring wide-eyed at Roger’s stomach.

“What?” Roger asked, although he already knew the answer.

“It’s gone, Rog,” Brian said quietly. “It’s gone.”

Needless to say, Roger ended up in Brian’s bed that night, making a few additionally important discoveries: that Brian also had three soulmarks (one of which Roger made disappear), and that Brian’s fingers were talented for much more than just guitar playing.

Somehow, Roger had never been happier.

* * *

Since Roger found Brian, he hadn’t thought too much about trying to pursue the subjects of his other two soulmarks, even as curious as he was to see if perhaps they matched the subjects of Brian’s two remaining soulmarks.

Then one day, Tim happened to mention that he had a friend who was interested in seeing a Smile performance. Roger didn’t think anything of it at first; he simply agreed with Brian that Tim’s friend would be welcome at their next show at a bar on campus.

It was one thing for Tim’s friend to show up at their next show, but another when he introduced himself to Roger and Brian after the show; a strikingly pretty boy with long, black hair, who carried himself more elegantly than Roger could ever fathom.

“Roger, Brian, this is my friend Freddie,” Tim said. “Freddie, this is Roger and Brian.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Freddie said, smiling warmly at them. Roger’s chest felt strangely tight and fluttery, as it had felt when he’d met Brian, alerting him to the fact that _something_ was up. “You’re a cute one,” Freddie added, looking directly at Roger.

Brian glanced at Roger with an eyebrow raised; that one phrase was the most obvious of Roger’s soulmarks, as it was generally unable to be covered with clothing except in the cold winter months, but there was something telling Roger that Freddie hadn’t just read it off his arm for the hell of it.

“Freddie, please don’t start flirting with my drummer,” Tim reprimanded with a sigh.

“What? It’s not my fault you didn’t tell me your bandmates were so good-looking,” Freddie said, with a wink at Brian this time, who immediately flushed pink. “I was expecting them to be utterly boring. But you’re both very talented. If you ever get tired of this one,” he added with a gesture towards Tim, “give me a call. I’m always available.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but Roger and Brian looked at each other again and shared a small, secret smile.

They didn’t even have to say it; they both knew that Freddie was meant to be theirs.

* * *

Over the next few months, Freddie became a staple at Smile shows. He was front row at every concert, no matter where it was, sending Roger and Brian winks and blowing kisses whenever they made eye contact with him. Sometimes, he’d wander backstage, and whenever Tim wasn’t present, he’d casually discuss the possibility of replacing Tim in the band. They always told him no, even if it was just for Tim’s sake; Freddie had already proven to them he could sing beautifully, crooning out a lovely version of _April Lady_ that had Roger and Brian’s jaws collectively dropping—he sang so sweetly, it was as if there was a modern-day siren in their midst.

They never thought anything would come of Freddie’s presence at their shows—no matter how talented a singer he was—until almost exactly six months after they met him, when during a rehearsal, Tim got fed up and admitted he didn’t think Smile was going anywhere, followed by the confession that he was quitting to join another band.

Roger and Brian were shocked and a little hurt by his abrupt leave, but Freddie easily swooped in to save their band from an uncertain fate by forcing the two of them to admit that now, when they were in need of a lead singer, Freddie was a more than suitable replacement.

It was only after Freddie officially joined the band – and practically took control of it by changing the name, but they weren’t complaining – that Roger worked up the courage to talk to him about the possibility that they were soulmates.

“Hey Fred, can I talk to you about something?” Roger asked him one day, after a rehearsal that they felt had gone particularly well; Freddie seemed to be _glowing_ , his skin slick with sweat and a wide smile on his face.

“Of course, darling,” Freddie answered. “What is it?”

“I think we’re soulmates,” Roger admitted, holding his arm out and gesturing to the words printed along his forearm. Freddie studied them for a brief moment, but he seemed mostly unfazed.

“Of course we are. I felt it all along,” Freddie said, smiling warmly at him. “And Brian, too, but I don’t think he knows it yet.” 

Before Roger could say another word, Freddie gently took Roger’s hand in his own and lifted his arm, bringing it to their eye-level before he leaned in and kissed the words on Roger’s arm. Roger gasped as again he felt that momentary white-hot pain as the words vanished.

“See?” Freddie said, dropping Roger’s arm back down to his side. “Soulmates.”

Roger didn’t have an answer to that, so he just leaned in and kissed him, maybe halfway hoping the answer was hidden somewhere in the recesses of Freddie’s mouth.

* * *

A year had passed since the discovery that Freddie was Roger’s soulmate; not only that, but he was Brian’s as well, as Freddie later proved to them. They’d managed to establish a semi-stable relationship in that time, spending a lot of time together even if they got each other’s nerves—they shared a flat and held band rehearsals nearly every evening, and things were going fairly smoothly.

Except for the fact that, unlike Tim, Freddie didn’t play the bass, so they had to find a new bassist to complete their band. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to find a lasting bassist; in a year alone, they’d already gone through five different bassists, who either didn’t quite fit the vision they had for the future of the band, or who decided they’d rather play a different style of music. The latter made no sense to Roger—who would want to play anything other than rock n’ roll?

If he was being honest, he was getting sick of having to be present at audition after audition after audition, finding a bassist he actually worked well with and who didn’t annoy him too much, only for said bassist to up and leave within a few months. By the time the sixth set of auditions rolled around, Roger was ready to determine if it was possible to play bass and drums simultaneously; that, or force Freddie to learn how to play, so they wouldn’t have to keep looking.

The sixth set of auditions was just as monotonous as the first five; the bassist entered, introduced himself, and then played something generic and boring. Roger zoned out entirely after the sixth bassist who auditioned, until he heard who he later learned to be the tenth bassist to audition began to play. The riff that drifted through the room was something actually _interesting;_ something that Roger immediately began imagining the rhythm he could add to it with his drums.

If he hadn’t zoned out, he might have realized that the bassist standing in front of him was his third and final soulmate, the missing piece of the boys’ puzzle.

He wouldn’t learn that until much later.

* * *

The bassist’s name was John Deacon, and they invited him to join the band almost immediately. Thankfully, he accepted, and the band seemed to be on course for a legitimate, lasting future after that; they could finally create fully-formed songs and perform under their new name.

Over the course of a year, they worked on and released their debut album, and things seemed to be going well. But Roger was almost painfully aware of the somewhat longing looks Brian and Freddie would give John when they thought John wasn’t paying attention. It hurt more than Roger cared to admit; after all, they were _his_ soulmates, not John’s, so why were they looking at John like they wished he was one of theirs?

When Roger grew tired of this behavior and exploded one day during rehearsal, while John had left the room to get a drink, Freddie calmed him down as always and explained that he and Brian were convinced John was their soulmate; presumably, Roger’s too.

Freddie was always right about soulmates, so when John returned to the room, Roger decided to put his theory to the test.

“Hey, Deaky, I’ve got something to tell you,” Roger said, approaching him where he sat, on the room’s only available couch with his bass in his lap.

“Okay.”

“I think you’re our soulmate. Mine, and Freddie’s, and Brian’s,” Roger said quickly.

John stared at him as if he’d said the most obvious common knowledge the world had to offer.

“No shit.”


End file.
